HHB 



E 186 



.M621 





• CONGRESS 



DDD03abDQlA 





** *yiw.> f % -j 



<^ *'.V«* <G V x5» *o.T* A 




*V ^'jtifeS ^/^<X G^.l^^ 






G* *o, 'o-.7* A 



<. 



^^°\-; 




•28& V* 






G v V *o.T- A 




vOvN 


















ft* 




<s *° • * " 



J 






%- **^ 









,v«* 






1 ' »+ **o 










0°\< 







6 o 



■a. r c* ^^i^ 



'•>-. 



,'f 








a. 



4* """ 






.*M 




^ 






i\ ^.^ ^Va\ ^..^ 



v v 



E 

J 



"The Paul Revere of the West" 

Address of 

Mr. Joseph F. Tuttle, Jr. 

of Colorado. 



Amusements in Detroit in 
Colonial Days 

Paper of 

Mr. Clarence M. Burton 

of Detroit. 



Patriotism 



Address by 



Rev. Sar^vM^. JJfSwuis, D. D. 

Deliverecfe'at theV-Anrlual EHnner of the 

•»v - . v 

Society^of^Colorrial Wars 



May Seventh, Nineteen Hundred Nine 



at the Detroit Club 
Detroit, Mich. 



"The Paul Revere of the West" 

Address of 

Mr. Joseph F. Tuttle, Jr. 

of Colorado. 



Amusements in Detroit in 
Colonial Days 

Paper of 

Mr. Clarence M. Burton 

of Detroit. 



Patriotism 

Address by 

Rev. Samuel S. Marquis, D. D. 



Delivered at the Annual Dinner of the 
Society of Colonial Wars 

May Seventh, Nineteen Hundred Nine 

at the Detroit Club 
Detroit, Mich. 



Speak er-H ines Press 
Detroit 



-. j- 



% < * c £ 






ADDRESS OF TOASTMASTER 



Toastmaster Pendleton : Members of the 
Colonial Wars in the State of Michigan. This 
society is no exception to the rule, that behind every 
successful organization there stands the inspiration 
of a personality. To no one does this society owe 
so much for its existence and its continued prosperity 
as to Theodore Horatio Eaton. (Applause.) We 
sympathize with him tonight in the bereavement that 
has made his presence impossible. Indeed we have, 
each of us, lost a friend in the death of Dr. Clark. 
Few men had the clairvoyant insight to see that 
which is best in every other man. But few men gave 
so generously of a high and noble friendship. His 
life passed quietly, serenely among us, like the flow- 
ing of an even river glinted by the sunlight, a bless- 
ing to mankind, reflecting the image of heaven. 

There is another name that will always be asso- 
ciated with that of Dr. Clark when we meet around 
this table, for this place is gathering, not only asso- 
ciations of festivity and social life, but also sacred 
associations. We shall never meet here without 
recalling the magnificent physique and the cultured 
mind of Alfred Russell, as he stood here, when the 
thunderbolt was hurled from the hand of Jove and 
he fell 

"As falls on Mount Olympus, a thunder-stricken oak, 
Far o'er the crashing forest, its giant arms lie spread, 
And the pale waters muttering low, gaze on the stricken 
head." 

It is with a sense of relief and with joy that 
tonight we turn our faces toward the West. In- 
deed, until within a few years ago, our gaze was so 
steadily fixed upon the East that our necks were 

5 



becoming awry, and it was almost with a sense of 
pain that we brought ourselves to turn our faces 
toward the hills whence we realize that our help 
has come. For we are beginning to appreciate that 
as the spirit of the colonies in the early days aroused 
the lethargy of the conservative governments of 
Europe, so now the spirit of the western land is 
arousing the conservatism of our own eastern 
country. Even here in Detroit, the water that flows 
by our doors comes from the snow-capped hills of 
the Rockies. Through deep subterranean channels 
passes along that tremendous flood of water that 
supplies the tideless and unsalted seas that are 
always full to the brim but never overflow. Perhaps 
the associations of some of us with this mountainous 
region, from which our honored guest has come 
tonight, are only connected with commercial matters, 
possibly with stockholders' meetings : first a mine, 
then a miner, and then a minus. (Laughter.) But. 
unless history shall fail to repeat itself, the Citadel 
of Liberty and Freedom in this country will be 
where the mountain air keeps the blood red and 
where Heaven is nearest to earth. In the old 
patriarchal days, it was rather a hazardous thing 
for a man to come into the city of the plains. We 
trust that our honored guest tonight will escape the 
fire and the brimstone, and we would suggest that 
on his return, he take a Pullman, with his seat look- 
ing forward, lest he may, perchance, be overtaken 
by the unfortunate fate that fell to the retrospective 
Mrs. Lot. (Laughter.) 

It is with peculiar pleasure we have as our honored 
guest tonight, a man who is well known among the 
patriotic societies in this country; and we are to be 
addressed this evening upon the subject, "The Paul 
Revere of the West." I take great pleasure in intro- 
ducing Mr. Joseph F. Tuttle, Jr. of Colorado. 
( Applause. ) 



THE PAUL REVERE OF THE WEST" 



Address of 

Mr. Joseph F. Tuttle, Jr. 

or Colorado. 



Mr. Tuttle: Mr. Toastmaster and Members of 
the Society of Colonial Wars in the State of Mich- 
igan. You will permit me, gentlemen, to express 
my most profound sense of the honor you have 
conferred, in asking me to be present with you this 
evening. I greatly appreciate it; as I did the kind 
words of Mr. Eaton, Mr. Fyfe and Mr. Bates at 
the Buffalo Congress of the Sons of the American 
Revolution last April. And I much appreciate the 
many attentions and courtesies you have extended 
to him who is literally a stranger within the gates of 
your city; indeed, it seems if one more were ex- 
tended, it would be a sort of last straw, or perhaps, 
the last feather old Father Peter Cartwright alluded 
to in one of his great revival services. As we all 
know, he was a powerful exhorter, and would 
occasionally get the power. He had in one of his 
congregations a good sister, so-called, in the bond 
of christian courtesy, who was an equally famous 
exhortress, and she would occasionally get the 
power. When they got the power together in the 
same service, Bedlam was just let loose. One night 
as they were in a neck and neck race for the rhe- 
torical honors of the evening, the good sister closed 
an unusually fervent appeal, with a look of triumph 
at her rival in the pulpit, by shouting out "Oh, if I 
had just one more feather in the wings of my 
faith, I would fly away tonight and be at rest with 



my Lord." And old Father Cartwright shouted out, 
from the pulpit, at the top of his voice, "Stick in that 
other feather, Lord, and let her go." (Laughter.) 

Emerson has this very striking remark, gentle- 
men, that the best history, that true history is 
biography; that men are but the pages of history, 
and in that sense, I dearly love the study of our 
American history. In dwelling so much upon these 
historical and biographical subjects, I am sometimes 
afraid that the same fate may overtake me which 
Mr. Lincoln said overtook a certain lawyer friend 
of his in Illinois. They had been very stubbornly 
contesting a certain case in the law courts of the 
8th District, and when the time came for submitting 
the arguments to the jury, Mr. Lincoln arose and 
said, "Gentlemen of the Jury, for reasons which are 
deplorable, as they are surprising, every time my 
friend on the opposite side of this case opens his 
mouth to talk, all his mental operations cease at 
once. And Gentlemen," said he, "the only thing 
with which my friend's lamentable condition can be 
compared, is a little steamboat that used to ply in 
the early 30s on the Sangamon River, when I was 
performing my part as a common keel flatboat man 
on that river. This little boat used to wheeze and 
snort up and down the river. It had a five-foot 
boiler, and a seven foot whistle, and every time it 
whistled, it stopped." (Laughter.) Now, there 
will be much whistling and blowing here tonight, 
but we will endeavor to keep moving. 

This last winter, you will indulge me to say, I 
crossed over every pass of the Rocky Mountains, 
from the beautiful Glorietta Pass on the south in 
New Mexico, to the famous historic South Pass on 
the north, in Wyoming, crossing the mountains 
some fifteen or sixteen times ; and so I have come 
to you with all the fervor of spirit, with all the 
imagination, with all the color that I could possibly 
absorb for this little story you shall hear tonight. 
During that time, I often traversed the old Santa Fe 
trail, and the old Utah and California trails on the 



Western Slope, until a few days ago, I stood on the 
old Fort Hall Reservation in Idaho; — Fort Hall, the 
most important of all the Hudson Bay Company's 
outposts, and the place where that Company, with its 
muskrat skins, and beaver skins, made its last stand 
in its great fight with the United States for the su- 
premacy of the country from the Rocky Mountains 
to the Pacific Ocean. As I say, I stood there, where 
four great historic trails merge into one. You can 
see them on this map. First there was the great 
historic trail of Capt. Hunt of the John Jacob Astor 
expedition of 1810; second the great Capt. Bonne- 
ville trail of 1831; third, the great Oregon Trail of 
1840, and then, fourth, the John C. Fremont explor- 
ing expedition of 1843. They are all marked upon 
this map issued by the Interior Department. I 
followed them for 300 miles along the Snake River, 
and up the beautiful Boise Valley, ever hearing the 
music of the union of the old trails, ever touching 
elbows and keeping step with those great empire- 
builders of the West, till at last, the old trails dis- 
appeared in the mists of the Blue mountains in 
Oregon. I had then traversed over a large part of 
that great historic trail, the greatest of all trails of 
the Northwest, over which the Paul Revere of the 
West came spurring out of the north one day in 
the autumn of 1842, with a letter in his hand that 
must be delivered post-haste to 1 Garcia. 

Virgil sang of Arms and the Man. I tonight, of 
the Man only. And now, let him this evening only 
be known as the Man. He will make good every 
royal attribute of a man. In 1836, this Man had 
been sent out by a certain religious society in Boston, 
under the auspices of the American Board of Foreign 
Missions, to the far northwest as a missionary. On 
the 3rd day of October, 1842, he was sitting, a soli- 
tary American guest at the annual feast of the Hud- 
son Bay Company at Fort Walla Walla, now in the 
State of Washington. As the festivities were in 
progress that day a courier suddenly dashed up to 
the door, from Fort Colville, 300 miles away, with 

9 



this announcement, that an English colony of 140 
persons was then on its way up the Columbia River 
to found a settlement upon the Columbia, and so 
hold all that country of the Northwest for England ; 
as you know, all that country was held in a joint 
title of occupancy between the years 1818 and 1816 
by England and the United States, it being a tacit 
understanding between the two nations that emigra- 
tion would eventually settle the question. In the 
moment following that announcement, a young 
English priest jumped to his feet, and excitedly 
shouted, "Hurrah! We have now got the country, 
America is too late." But then you should have 
seen the sudden transformation in this humble 
missionary of the Cross, as with eyes snapping with 
righteous anger, and cheeks flushed with indignation, 
he pushed himself back from the table, at the first 
convenient unobserved moment, and in two hours' 
time had pulled up his foam-flecked pony before his 
cabin door twenty-five miles away; shouted out the 
English plot before he had dismounted, and his 
determination to at once set out on horseback, and 
inform Daniel Webster of the English plot. None 
could dissuade him, he must go. He said that the 
Webster-Ashburton Treaty was pending before the 
Senate, and that the question must be settled before 
Congress adjourned on the 4th of March. "Even if 
the American Board dismiss me, I shall do all I 
can to save the Northwest to the Union" were his 
last words, as within twenty-four hours he swung 
himself into the saddle and galloped down the trail 
for Washington and Daniel Webster, home and wife 
behind him, winter, four thousand miles as he was 
to ride, and the Rocky Mountains, before him. 

With Gen. Amos Love joy, a nephew of the dis- 
tinguished Amos Lawrence of Boston, and his 
Indian guides, he bounded over the trail through 
Fort Hall. At Fort Hall he took a southeasterly 
direction, and finally came to what is known as 
Fort Bridger, about fifty miles south of the present 
City of Evanston, Wyoming. Then he crossed the 

10 




' — "•' • ' ' — : — ' " '" 



The start from the Columbia. "The Man" on the right. 



Uintah Mountains, and finally came to Fort Uintah 
in the extreme northeast corner of Utah, and then 
crossed over the line into that enchanted country — 
you will pardon me gentlemen for saying I love, — 
Colorado. (Applause.) Then he followed down 
the Grand River Valley, covered then with deep 
snow, until he came to the junction of the Eagle and 
the Grand Rivers. As I was many times this winter 
at that place, I wondered why the man did not pro- 
ceed in an easterly direction up the Eagle instead 
of following the Grand River. If he had done that, 
and come out over Tennessee pass, and then into 
that beautiful plain where the City of Leadville is, 
he would have found the headwaters of the Arkansas 
River, and then, following that river down through 
the broad open country until it narrows in the Royal 
Gorge, to about twenty-five feet, would have come 
to Bent's Fort, which was his objective point. But 
he did not do this, and kept following this south- 
easterly direction down the Grand River until he 
crossed the river near where the present City of 
Grand Junction, in Colorado, is. He found that 
river running with an angry current of eighteen 
hundred feet wide, and full of ice cakes. He dis- 
mounted, cut a stout sapling, and then mounting 
the old lead animal of the pack train, ordered Gen. 
Love joy and his guides to push him into that angry 
current, and they did so. He was completely sub- 
merged for a few seconds, but rising to the surface, 
commenced the battle for life out in the middle of 
that river, as he pushed away the floating ice-cakes 
from his faithful horse as he was breasting that 
strong current, until finally he reached the other side, 
jumped upon the icy bank, and then with his stick 
broke a channel through the ice, through which he 
led his horse safely up the bank. Then he still keeps 
up this southeasterly direction, following up the 
Gunnison River to the place where Delta, Colorado, 
now is ; and there, leaving the Gunnison, followed up 
the Uncompahgre River, and up the beautiful Un- 
compahgre valley where are now Delta, Olathe and 

11 



Montrose ; and still 12 miles beyond the place where 
Montrose now is, to old Fort Uncompahgre. He 
then crossed over the great Divide, still following 
this southeasterly course, was lost for ten days in 
Hinsdale County wandering helplessly through the 
deep snow, unable to extricate himself ; and one day 
was shut up in a box canon all day, and the party 
actually gave itself up for lost, and sat like sheeted 
spectres on their horses, calmly awaiting death. 
Suddenly the old Mexican guide noticed the peculiar 
twitching of one of the pack mule's ears, and thor- 
oughly understanding the mule nature, he told this 
Man that the old mule had a wireless to deliver; 
they took that wireless, and it was this: "Take off 
my packs and give me my head, and if I live, I 
will get you out of this." And they took off the 
old fellow's packs, gave him his head, and then the 
old mule commenced to flounder through the snow. 
Finally he led them along the edges of rocky 
precipices, and through steep defiles, until at one 
place, the most unexpected to every one of the party, 
the old mule made a straight plunge down the steep 
mountain bank, and in a little while — and all this. 
Gentlemen, upon the written statement of General 
Lovejoy — led the party safely back to the smoking 
embers of their morning camp fire. 

The rebellion of this Man's guide, at this critical 
juncture, who absolutely refused to proceed any 
farther, as he said that the deep snows had com- 
pletely obliterated all his knowledge of the country; 
an extra ride for this Man over the trail back to 
Fort Uncompahgre for another guide, a journey of 
seven days to go, and eight or nine days to return, 
leaving General Lovejoy alone upon the mountains, 
to care for the animals, as best he could. General 
Lovejoy's sole companion during these eighteen or 
nineteen days of this Man's absence, was a faithful 
little dog, that had thrown in its fortunes with the 
party on the trail. And the General speaks of thh 
little dog cuddling under the blankets at night as if 
in an endeavor to keep his master warm. But it is 

12 



pitiful to read, that in a few days after this, General 
Love joy was so pressed with hunger, as his friend 
did not return, that he was obliged to kill and eat 
that faithful little dog. Finally the Man returned 
and the party kept on in a southeasterly direction 
until they came to the country which was made 
tragic, five years later, by that terrible catastrophe 
which happened to John C. Fremont and his explor- 
ing expedition of 1848, where so many of his men 
were frozen to death ; then still in a southeasterly 
direction, and here is the secret of it. He had heard 
at Fort Walla Walla, before he started, or some- 
where on the trail, of the desirability of finding the 
headwaters of the Rio Grande del Norte River, and 
he finally found them in what is now Rio Grande 
County in Colorado. He then followed that river 
down through the country where are now Creede 
and Wagon Wheel Gap, and came out into the 
beautiful San Luis Valley, still following the banks 
of the river until he crossed into New Mexican 
territory, and then on to Fort Taos, and finally sixty- 
five miles farther south, to Santa Fe, hoping by that 
long detour of a thousand miles, to get in touch 
with some eastern outfit for safe journey across the 
plains, which he heard were infested with bands of 
hostile Indians. Disappointed in this, this Man then 
took the old Santa Fe trail, which commenced there 
at Santa Fe, and doubled back into Colorado, or 
rather, what is now Colorado, coming into Colorado 
that second time about where the City of Trinidad 
now is. On the 29th of December — this was in 
1842 — he met George Bent on the trail, one of the 
famous Bent brothers, who had built Bent's Fort on 
the Arkansas River in 1828. Bent informed him 
that a large party of mountaineers were to leave 
Bent's Fort for the Missouri River in a few days, 
and if he would get in touch with them, he 
must hurry on with his fleetest horse, and leave 
General Lovejoy to follow with the packs. He did 
so, and then this Man disappeared for seven days, as 
completely as if he had been swallowed up by the 

13 



earth. He was lost and alone somewhere on the 
mountains between the sites of the present cities of 
Trinidad and Pueblo. He finally emerged from his 
wanderings, picked up the old Santa Fe trail he had 
lost a few days before, and then followed the trail 
down the north bank of the Arkansas River until 
he came to Bent's Fort. 

Bent's Fort, what a magic name it was in those 
days of the 30s and the 40s! It was the residence 
of Francis P. Blair for two years, the same Francis 
P. Blair who ran for Vice-President on the ticket 
with Horatio Seymour in 1868. It was the favorite 
rendezvous of such choice spirits of the western trails 
as Kit Carson, who was its official hunter for eight 
years; of old Parson Bill Williams, who was 
Fremont's scout in Hinsdale County, when Fremont 
lost so many men in his disastrous expedition of 
1848, and Oliver P. Wiggins of Denver, now in the 
89th year of his age, whom I have the great pleasure 
to know, and who has told me many times of those 
days. Much of the color you are getting tonight, 
comes from the lips of Oliver P. Wiggins, and not 
from books. One day in the Denver Post Office, 
where Mr. Wiggins, a few years ago, was a special 
policeman, without my leading up to it at all, he told 
me that in the winter of 1843 he heard that a man 
rode across the Rocky Mountains to Washington, 
and that that ride, in the middle of the winter, was 
the talk of all the mountain and plains men. 

Bent's Fort was built 185 feet on the ground. Its 
walls were eighteen feet high, and four feet thick. 
I have a little picture of it here; you will perhaps 
enjoy seeing it later. The walls were four feet thick 
and looped all around for musketry. Three little 
cannons were planted on the bastions of Bent's Fort, 
and from the diary of John Fremont I get this little 
dash of color; — he says that "On the first day of 
July, 1844, we came to Bent's Fort, and as we 
emerged from the cottonwoods on the banks of the 
river, they ran up the flag on the staff of the Fort," 
and then these three little cannons barked out their 

14 







Kit. Carson. 



noisy welcome to Fremont and his party of 1844. 

An amusing story is told by Col. Ingham that at 
one time in the 30s Old Wolf, the big Chief of the 
Comanche Indians, came to Bent's Fort with several 
hundred of his Indian braves, to visit his friends the 
Bent brothers, or in other words, to stay just as long 
as the Bent larder lasted. One night, the roystering 
spirits of the fort got Old Wolf in the fort, got him 
drunk, and then, not to be outdone in the courtesies 
which should exist between host and guests, they 
proceeded to put themselves on a level with their 
distinguished guest, and got drunk themselves. In 
the wild orgies of the night, some one put some 
blank cartridges in those three little cannons and 
fired them off, pointing them at the Indian tepees 
outside. The Indians, thoroughly frightened, 
scampered away, and returning at midnight, com- 
pletely invested the fort and clamored loudly for the 
immediate release of Old Wolf. Then those fellows 
in the Fort realized their predicament very quickly 
and sobered up; and they hoisted Old Wolf up on 
the parapet, propped him up, as he was too far 
gone to be of any material assistance to himself, and 
then ordered him to make a speech to his assembled 
braves outside, in which he told them that he was 
"Never heaper all right, never heaper happier in all 
his life, and for them to go back to their tepees, and 
mind their own business." 

I can imagine this Man galloping up to Bent's 
Fort that night of January 6th, 1843, almost the only 
night he was to sleep under a roof since he had 
entered what is now Colorado the preceding 
November. And I can further see him that night 
standing in one of the great compartments in the 
ruddy blaze of the fire-logs on the hearth, and 
thrilling his auditors of scouts, of soldiers, of officers 
and of Indians, with his story, how he is riding hard 
to save the northwest to the Union; how he swam 
the Grand River ; how he was lost for ten days upon 
the mountains, in what is now Hinsdale County, 
Colorado; and the hearts of his auditors are glow- 

15 



ing with love of their country, as they hear that 
story, for the brave mountaineering element in 
history and in Colorado has always been "on the 
side of the right and of the Union." And then I 
can see them the next morning, crowding to the old 
wooden gates to wish this Man Godspeed upon his 
journey. 

Bent's Fort ! half way! three months in the saddle ! 
his companion General Lovejoy and all his guides 
broken down and left behind from the terrible 
exposure of the mountains. On the morning of 
January 7th, 1843 — for he stayed at Bent's Fort but 
one night — this Paul Revere of the West took the 
trail alone, and came flying up through the country 
where Las Animas, Granada and Holly, Fort Aub- 
rey, Dodge City, Hutchinson and Great Bend now 
are; and then finally to Westport on the Missouri 
River, now a suburb of Kansas City, where he reeled 
off the last of the eight hundred and twenty-five 
miles of the old Santa Fe Trail. As he had come into 
the settlements, he had commenced to distribute little 
rude circulars of this wonderful Eldorado of the 
Northwest, "Good wagon road over the mountains," 
and in such enthusiasm passed through St. Louis, 
and then on to Washington, where it is said he 
arrived on the afternoon of March 3rd, 1843, 
exactly five months from that day when he had 
spurred down the valley from Fort Walla Walla. 

When Daniel Webster said "Come in" that after- 
noon, in response to the knock at his office door, 
there walked in a man enveloped in a great Buffalo 
overcoat, with a great buffalo overhood attached, in 
which he had slept for fifty nights in the snow 
before his camp fire, in crossing the Rocky 
mountains, and his first words were : "Mr. Webster, 
what of the treaty?" "Why Man," — said Daniel 
Webster — "the treaty, it was signed two months 
before you set out. It was proclaimed the law of 
the land while you were lost on the mountains, and 
besides, the Northwest was not mentioned in the 
Webster-Ashburton Treaty." What a staggering 

16 





"Bent's Fort, Colorado, on the Arkansas, built in 1828.' 



blow that was ! But this Man parried it by dashing 
around Washington as he had done over the 
mountains and up the Santa Fe Trail. President 
John Tyler and his Secretary, Daniel Webster, be- 
came infected with this Man's enthusiasm; and to 
me, the one supreme psychological moment of the 
whole history of the Northwest was that day, when 
this Man, dressed in his blue duffle coat, a coat, you 
know, made out of a closely woven Mackinaw blan- 
ket, with fur undergarments, buckskin breeches, fur 
leggings and boot moccasins, and face gridironed all 
over with the terrible frosts of the mountains, stood 
before John Tyler, President, and his Secretary, 
Daniel Webster, in the White House, and with 
passionate eloquence pleaded with them to save the 
Northwest to the Union. Just at this very critical 
moment, Mr. Webster met the British Minister one 
day on the streets of Washington ; and this Minister, 
no doubt, having been secretly informed by Sir 
George Simpson, who was then Governor of the 
Hudson Bay Company and was spending that 
winter in Washington, of his intended sending of a 
colony from the Red River Country in the British 
Possessions down the Columbia, so as to form a 
colony there, and hold all that country for England ; 
this British Minister said to Mr. Webster: "Now 
Mr. Webster, the shortest way out of this difficulty 
is to let immigration settle the question." And 
Daniel Webster said to him: "Sir, we will let 
immigration settle this question." And then Daniel 
Webster and John Tyler took this Man aside and 
whispered into his frost-bitten ear : "If you will only 
get your immigrants there by next fall, we will hold 
the Northwest to the United States." And Daniel 
Webster that very day sat down and paid the first 
installment of this magnificent promise, as he wrote 
to the British Minister in Washington, these exact 
words : "England must not expect anything south 
of the 49th parallel," which you know is the present 
north line of the State of Washington. 



17 



Then, this Man disappeared from Washington, 
and the next that we hear of him is in Boston, where 
he went to visit the religious society which had sent 
him out as a missionary. Swimming the Grand 
River, and fighting for life with the floating ice- 
floes, was a hot bath, as compared with the chilly 
reception it is said he received from that society 
which said to him substantially : "We sent you to 
the Northwest to save souls, not to save territory to 
the United States." 

No meet for a chase was ever called, which had 
in it such magnetic charm as that June meet on the 
banks of the Missouri River in 1843 at Westport. 
This Man was there, organizing, over-seeing, and 
electrifying. People were gathering from the 
North, East and South. One man named Zachary 
came clear from Texas, having received one of 
those rude little circulars. The last wagon was 
packed, and the canvas stretched over the great 
hoops, a proud moment for this Man as he saw two 
hundred wagons wheel into line, with eight hundred 
and seventy-five immigrants and thirteen hundred 
head of cattle and horses, all headed for the distant 
Northwest. 

Proceeding in detachments about ten days to two 
weeks apart, so as to give an opportunity for the 
grasses to spring up as forage for the detachments 
to follow, they filed out of Westport on the old 
Santa Fe Trail. This they followed for seventy-five 
miles, until they came to a point now called 
Waseruka on the Santa Fe Railroad, and there the 
great trail forked. The southern fork was the one 
up which he had galloped three months before, and 
led directly down to Bent's Fort in Colorado; and 
the north fork of that trail was the trail which has 
been made classic in the history of the West by the 
pen of Francis Parkman, as the great Oregon Trail. 
You will recall how beautifully Eva Emery Dye has 
written of this western movement to the sea; she 
says: "Many a love was plighted on this long 
march from the Missouri River to the sea. Buffalo 

18 




'The Man" in the White House, before President Tyler and Daniel Webster 



hunters swept in from their raids, and scouts reported 
from their Indian trails ; and there in that little com- 
pany were future generals and governors and future 
United States senators, eminent lawyers, physicians 
and divines of the Northwest. There was McCarver, 
who founded Burlington, Iowa; and afterwards 
Sacramento, California; and then Tacoma, Wash- 
ington. There in that little company was marching 
Peter H. Burnett, the first Governor of California; 
and there in that little company of Captain John C. 
Fremont, which had been deputized by the United 
States Government, as an escort, to see this train of 
immigrants safely across the plains of Kansas and 
Nebraska, was William Gilpin, the first Governor 
of Colorado." 

All the historians agree that in the last week of 
June — this was in 1843 — these immigrants were 
marching along the south fork of the North Platte 
River, and that on the 7th July they crossed over 
a distance of some 40 or 50 miles to follow the 
North Platte up to Fort Laramie. And as if 
Colorado could not keep herself out of this magic 
chapter of the winning of the West, John C. 
Fremont, with his little party, then followed down 
the south fork of the North Platte River, on and on, 
until in the words of his diary of 1843 he says : 
"We camped at a little place just a few yards south 
of where Cherry Creek empties itself into the Platte 
River," a place which I have been assured by Mr. 
Wiggins, the venerable scout I have alluded to, was 
a little spring which was the favorite rendezvous of 
John C. Fremont and Kit Carson and whose site I 
have often visited, and is now in the heart of the 
City of Denver. 

Of all the difficulties which beset this Man on his 
homeward ride with his immigrants that summer of 
1843, none could be compared to the jealousies and 
hatreds of the Hudson Bay Company, particularly 
of Captain Grant and his associates at Fort Hall. 
Rivers, snows, mountains, and ice floods were but 
gentle mosquito irritations to the troubles these 

19 



sharpers of the Hudson Bay Company gave him. 
One of the historians — Barrows — mentions that a 
curious feature of this Man's first trip over the 
mountains in 1836, was an old wagon, which he 
was determined to get through to the Pacific Coast, 
to demonstrate to the people of the East the 
feasibility of immigration over the Rocky Mountains. 
Though the Hudson Bay Company, at that time, 
were without a rival from the Rocky Mountains to 
the Pacific, and were hardly less inferior to the 
power on the throne, yet they fairly shook in their 
shoes at the sight and sound of that old wagon! 
It was dismembered, dragged piece by piece over 
the old Trail, ingloriously dwindled to the dimen- 
sions of a cart, the hind wheels loaded on and 
carried as freight ; but through the indomitable will 
of this Man, those wheels ever kept rolling towards 
the Pacific, and finally arrived there in the spring of 
1837. Bitterly the Hudson Bay Company at Fort 
Hall now repented, so this historian says, of letting 
that old wagon through seven years before; for now 
here at the gates of Fort Hall and coming up the 
dusty eastern trail from Fort Laramie, were two 
hundred emigrant wagons; they argued with the 
immigrants, persuaded, and threatened them, tried 
to deflect them from the old Oregon trail, till it 
seemed as if that long ride had been in vain, and 
perhaps it would have been, had it not been for the 
assuring presence of some friendly Indians who had 
come to meet their old teacher and safely escort 
him to his home. "And so" as the historian says 
"these old wagons creaked and groaned, rolled and 
tossed till they awoke welcoming echoes in the 
canons of the Columbia." 

There is a light over the Blue Mountains in 
Oregon, and flying hoofs, with the music of the 
Union in their beat, are striking fire upon the great 
Oregon Trail, to light it up for those immigrants 
who are following, the "Army of Occupation," 
which saved all the Northwest to the Union. Again, 
the sound of a horse's hoofs is striking upon the 

20 



ear of an anxious and solicitous wife, and as a 
reward for her patient waiting and watching at her 
lone cabin door, as a reward for her noble sacrifice 
of her husband to his country in that crisis of its 
history, Marcus Whitman is riding from out the 
shadow of the Blue Mountains, and is soon clasping 
her in his arms, three months from the Missouri 
River, and exactly eleven months to a day from the 
day when he started from Fort Walla Walla on that 
eastern ride. On that 3rd day of September, 1843, 
Marcus Whitman brought his wife the first tidings 
of himself since he had started away from his cabin 
door on the 3rd day of October, 1842. 

And now, what had he done? Just in a word, 
gentlemen. He had unclutched the fingers of a 
foreign power that had stretched out its long arm 
over the sea, and had seized in one fell swoop, all 
the country lying south of the present north line of 
the State of Washington, clear down to the Columbia 
River, and then, by a shadowy title that England 
had set up, still farther south to the present north 
line of the States of California, Nevada and Utah; 
then eastward to take in twenty thousand square 
miles of the State of Wyoming; then north along 
the great Rocky Mountain range to the British 
Possessions, and then west along the 49th parallel to 
the sea, an area which comprises parts of the present 
States of Montana, of Wyoming and all of the 
States of Washington, Oregon and Idaho ; — an area 
of over three hundred thousand square miles; six 
times as large as your State of Michigan ; two and a 
half times as large as Great Britain and Ireland com- 
bined ; twice as large as our present colonial posses- 
sions, huge as they are, Hawaii, Porto Rico and the 
Philippines ; or to throw it in another form, an area 
equal to Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Mass- 
achusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, 
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, 
Virginia, Ohio, Michigan, and one-half of Indiana 
combined. And of that magnificent achievement, 
Daniel Webster wrote to a friend in his later years : 

21 



"Had it not been for Dr. Marcus Whitman and his 
fellow missionaries, it is safe to say that all of the 
great Oregon country would now be owned by 
England and by the Hudson Bay Company." For 
that splendid service to his country, Marcus Whit- 
man and his faithful wife, Narcissa Prentiss Whit- 
man, are sleeping tonight in martyrs' graves in that 
far country, where Bryant says, "Rolls the Mighty 
Oregon," horribly butchered and mutilated after his 
return from that ride by members of his own 
mission station, members of his own Sunday school, 
who were fearful lest the great tide of immigration 
he had evoked from the east, should drive them from 
their hunting grounds. 

And now, in these closing words let me say, 
gentlemen, that as we are sitting here tonight 
beneath the protecting folds of this dear old Flag, 
this poem without words, this song without music, 
this benediction ever upon us without the laying on 
of hands, all of the stars are shining brightly tonight 
in its blue field, but six of them, to me, with 
peculiarly sparkling lustre; — Oregon the 33rd, 
Colorado the 38th, that State that had put those 
fiery frost scars on the face of Marcus Whitman as 
her special brand-royal of a hero and a patriot; 
Montana the 41st, Washington the 42nd, Idaho the 
43rd, Wyoming the 44th, and soon it is thought to 
be the star of a new State, to be formed out of the 
fifty thousand extra square miles of the old Oregon 
country in the western part of Montana, in the north 
corner of Idaho, and in the eastern part of Wash- 
ington, with Spokane as its capital, and to be called 
by the magic name of Lincoln ; — each of those five 
stars of the Northwest, set in the firmament home 
of the old Flag by this Paul Revere of the West 
who rode across the Rocky Mountains in dead of 
winter, with a letter in his hand superscribed 
"Daniel Webster, Secretary of State, Washington, 
District of Columbia," and down in the corner these 
magic words — Oh ! I love to think of them even in 

22 



fancy — "Via Colorado!" (Long continued 

applause. ) 

Mr. Bates: I want to say a word right here 
I went to the Denver Congress two years ago, and 
heard this magnificent story of the conquest of the 
Northwest to the Union delivered by our most 
distinguished guest, whom we asked to come here 
for the benefit of this Society, and it gives me great 
pleasure to know and hear him tonight ; and I move 
that the thanks of this Society be tendered to our 
very distinguished friend, by rising. 

Toastmaster : You have heard the motion. All 
in favor please express it by rising. 

Mr. Tuttle : I thank you very much, gentlemen. 

Toastmaster: We shall never forget Marcus 
Whitman, and I am sure, we will never forget our 
honored guest, Mr. Tuttle. (Applause.) I can 
only faintly express our gratitude that he can be 
with us tonight. 

It was Voltaire who said "Mankind had lost their 
title deeds, Montesquieu recovered and restored 
them." You will not think that mention of title 
deeds is going to bring "the shop" into the house, 
because those of us, and that means all of us, who 
know him so well, are aware of the telescopic vision 
of Mr. Burton, of the breadth of his mind, and that 
for him Arpents and French Concession have 
expanded into international boundaries, and that the 
name of the old French settlers, Batiste Chauvin, 
Louis St. Aubin and the rest, have been transfigured 
into voyageurs from sunny France, and that with 
his historical instinct and enthusiasm, it has been 
impossible for him to become satisfied until his 
secretaries were busily at work in Montreal and 
Paris ; and until he had garnered the most valuable 
collection of original documents in existence any- 
where, upon the early French settlements, and re- 
covered and restored them safe from the dust of 
ages and from the tooth of time. 

23 



It is stated that when Alexander the Great stood 
upon the tomb of Achilles, he said "How fortunate 
was Achilles in having such a herald as Homer to 
proclaim his exploits." How fortunate is Detroit, in 
having such a herald as Burton to transcribe and 
proclaim her exploits! (Applause.) 

Mr. Burton will speak to us tonight upon "Amuse- 
ments in Detroit in Colonial Days." (Applause.) 

Mr. Burton : I have been exceedingly interested 
in the talk of Mr. Tuttle; and it recalls to my mind 
the stories that my father and mother told me years 
ago of their trip over this Santa Fe Trail where, a 
few months preceding my birth, they went from the 
State of Michigan to the State of California up in 
the mountains, where I was born. I am sure that 
this has been to me, probably, more interesting than 
it has to most of you for recalling these old stories. 
The story that I am to tell you tonight is so purely 
local that it cannot excite in you any of that en- 
thusiasm that has followed the recital of Mr. Tuttle, 
but it may give you a little idea of how, not our 
ancestors but our predecessors, lived in this little 
village of ours before it came to< be the great city that 
it is now. Of course, I am compelled to rely upon 
notes. I could not commit such a matter as this to 
memory, and you will excuse me in that respect 
(Applause.) 



24 



AMUSEMENTS IN DETROIT IN 
COLONIAL DAYS 



Paper of 

Mr. Clarence M. Burton 

of Detroit. 



On the 24th day of July in the year 1701, there 
landed on the shore of the Detroit River, a company 
of soldiers and artisans, under the command of 
Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac. This Company con- 
sisted of fifty soldiers and fifty civilians comprising 
all the trades useful for a frontier settlement. 
Cadillac, the commandant, had been commissioned 
by the French Government to locate a fort and 
village on the Detroit River at such a point as would 
command the water-way from Erie in the Great 
Lakes beyond, and he had chosen this as the spot 
for such a fort. From his starting point at Montreal, 
he had been accompanied by a guard of one hundred 
Algonquin Indians, and as the forces neared the 
final stopping place, the number of Indians increased 
until a small army of them drew their light canoes 
upon the sandy beach, and gave their assistance to 
the founding of a great city. 

On the progress up the Ottawa River from 
Montreal to Lake Nipissing, and thence across that 
lake to its outlet, French River, and down that river 
and through the Georgian Bay to the final desti- 
nation. Troubles and disagreements arose among the 
soldiers and colonists, and some of them were on the 
point of deserting or returning to their homes. It 
was rumored among them that Cadillac would never 
pay them for their services ; that he would not permit 

25 



them to return to Montreal, or bring their families 
to Detroit. So a hundred rumors of the hardships 
that must sooner or later overtake them, were passed 
around the camp to discourage their further progress 
or to prompt them to turn back before their work 
was accomplished. 

Before anything was done on the shores of the 
Detroit River, Cadillac called all of his people 
together, immediately upon their landing, and talked 
to them about these rumors of disaffection. He had 
been told that the leader and originator of these trou- 
bles was the Jesuit priest, Vaillant, who had been per- 
mitted, contrary to the wishes of Cadillac, to go with 
him from Montreal. He knew that this priest had 
been disappointed in not having the exclusive charge 
of the religious affairs of the company, for he had 
been allowed to come to Detroit only for the purpose 
of founding a mission among the Indians, while a 
Recollet priest, Nicolas Constantin de T Halle, was 
selected as almoner to the settlement. 

When Cadillac made known to his people his 
knowledge of their discontent, and asked them for 
the causes of it, Vaillant, who was present, found 
that his schemes had been discovered, and he 
immediately started for the woods to escape the 
wrath of the commandant and the people. He 
proceeded at once to Mackinac and never afterwards 
appeared at Detroit. 

No Jesuit priest ever officiated at the place until 
within very recent times. 

The foundation for the Church of Ste. Anne was 
begun on the day of the first landing, and we may 
well believe that the chanting of church services was 
started at once, and has been continued without 
interruption since, for even during the trying times 
of 1763, when the place was besieged by Pontiac, 
religious services were punctually attended to. 

The early French and Canadian colonists were 
mostly uneducated farmers, voyageurs and coureurs 
de bois, who sought the great west because it gave 
them opportunities for employment with some hope 

26 



of bettering - their condition in life. The commandant 
was obliged to make a report of the transactions of 
the place sufficient to keep his superiors informed as 
to the situation of affairs, but farther than these 
official reports, we have very little information 
regarding the daily life of the people. They wrote 
no letters to friends or relatives to tell them about 
the new country they had chosen for their homes. 
An occasional quarrel between parties reached the 
court at Quebec, but very little information can be 
derived from that source. The church records are 
very full and complete, but they are of such a nature 
that they give little information of the daily life of 
the community. The first Church of Ste. Anne that 
had been erected in 1701 was destroyed by fire in 
1703, and with it the church record for the two- years 
was consumed. This record contained the entry of 
the birth of a child to the commandant and his wife, 
the first white child born in Detroit, or probably west 
of Montreal. There can be little doubt that the birth 
of this child was the occasion of great and prolonged 
hilarity on the part of the entire community, for not 
only was it the first birth, but it was the birth of a 
child to the first and most important family in the 
settlement. From this time forward there are entries 
of marriages, births and deaths, each an occasion for 
mirth or sorrow, and the French people then, as 
now, permitted no occasion for mirth to escape them 
unnoticed. 

The new-comers brought guns and gun flints, 
powder and ball for hunting. 

In modern times, by custom brought down from 
the far away pioneer life, the one most skillful in 
using his gun at the annual tournaments is awarded 
a prize for his ability. That this custom prevailed as 
far back as the beginning of our history, there can 
be little doubt, and at such trials of skill we may 
well assume that they engaged in all sorts of athletic 
sports, as running, wrestling, rowing, bowling and 
arrow shooting. The flint arrow heads that we 
sometimes, even now, find in the fields around the 

27 



city, were quite difficult to make, and we cannot 
believe that the Indians used them on ordinary 
occasions. These arrows were reserved for special 
occasions, such as shooting to show their skill, 
where the arrow could be found and returned to the 
sender. A bird on the wing could be killed or 
wounded with such an arrow, but there would be 
more difficulty in killing, or even seriously wounding 
an animal of any considerable size. 

Twice during the first eleven years of Detroit's 
history, the place was beseiged by the Indians, once 
in 1705, and again in 1712, and on both occasions 
the savages sought to destroy the village by shooting 
arrows carrying balls of fire on the unprotected 
roofs of the houses. Both efforts failed because of 
the prompt action of the citizens and garrison in 
extinguishing the flames and in unroofing the houses. 
At the outset, the Indians did not have guns or 
powder. When they obtained guns, as they did within 
a few years, they were entirely dependent upon the 
French for powder and they could not conduct a 
war of any considerable length without the assist- 
ance of the French or Canadians. They became 
skillful marksmen, both with gun and bow, but no 
more skillful than the French. 

The white and red natives mixed together as one 
people. They sometimes intermarried, but aside 
from this, the early white men who were trappers, 
hunters and traders, in the woods, lived with the 
savages on terms of perfect equality and their traits 
and habits of life became similar. The athletic 
sports were common to all natives, but there were 
some sports more peculiarly Indian in their character, 
such as rowing, swimming, and arrow shooting. 
Then there was lacrosse, a game at first peculiarly 
Indian, but which was soon adopted by the white 
men. They had dances of various forms suited to 
various occasions, such as war dances, medicine 
dances and dances at funerals. In their camps in the 
woods, to pass away the long evenings, the men had 
stag dances, such as in more modern times, were 

28 



indulged in by the woodsmen in the lumber camps. 
The Canadian boatmen were noted for their boat 
songs, and the long pulls through the placid waters 
of Lake Nipissing and the Georgian Bay were en- 
livened by the chorus of voices that kept time to the 
strokes of their oars and paddles. 

"Faintly as tolls the evening chime. 
Our voices keep tune, and our ears keep time, 
Soon as the woods on the shore look dim, 
We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn, 
Row, brothers, row ! the stream runs fast, 
The rapids are near, and the daylight's past !" 

— Moore's Canadian Boat Song. 

One hundred voices, rising and falling in unison, 

as they passed through the various rivers and lakes 
from Montreal to Detroit, gave notice to the savages 
that the march of civilization had begun. This 
crude music was a dreadful warning to them, if they 
had but understood it, that the ownership of the 
woods and streams, and control of the wilderness 
was about to pass into other hands, but they did not 
comprehend. They welcomed the new-comers to a 
home, a settlement, a new colony in the west. 

The soldiers who came with Cadillac were French- 
men who had entered the army in France and were 
therefore familiar with the soldiers' life in the old 
country. This life was not one of seclusion, or of 
toil only, but was interspersed with all the hilarity 
and joy making that could be obtained in such a 
situation and in such a life. They undoubtedly 
played all the games that were common in the day, 
such as quoits, bowling in the narrow streets of the 
village, card playing and other similar indoor 
amusements in inclement weather. 

The houses of the first comers were very small 
and very crude. They were built of small logs set 
on end and driven into the ground far enough to 
make them stand firmly upright, and extending 
above the ground only six or seven feet, high enough 
to stand in. They were covered with skins, or with 
split rails, and then with grass or straw. The up- 



rights were placed as closely together as possible and 
the interstices filled with clay or mud. They were 
seldom more than from twelve to eighteen feet in 
width and of about the same depth. There were 
no floors, except the earth beaten hard by many 
footsteps. No glass windows were in the place. The 
window openings were covered with the skin of some 
animal. This was translucent on most occasions, 
but the skin would thicken with age and exposure, 
and it was frequently necessary to scrape thinner 
or stretch it more in order to admit any light. The 
only large buildings in the place were the warehouse 
and church, and here all of the assemblies were held 
for entertainments. During the year 1701 there 
were no white women in the place, but the next year 
came Madam Cadillac, and with her came Madam 
Tonty, wife of Captain Alphonse de Tonty, and 
their children, and servants. From this time on, the 
wives of the former residents began to arrive, so 
that a full and complete community was soon here. 
There were many Indians, for Cadillac says that he 
fed six thousand mouths during the winter of 1701-2 
and there were men, women, boys, girls, servants, 
and all that goes to make up a colony. They all 
attended church on Sunday and holy days, and as 
there were soon two or three hundred people, it will 
be seen that it was necessary to have a large building 
for church purposes. 

The warehouse, also, was very large, for it con- 
tained not only all the food, utensils, clothing and 
other things brought up annually for the citizens and 
the savages, but also all the peltries and things that 
were collected to be sent down to Montreal in 
exchange. It was likely in this building that their 
indoor dances were held. They planted a May pole 
each year before the door of the commandant, and 
that occasion was also accompanied with dancing, but 
the kind of music they had is not mentioned. 

The soldiers did not act as soldiers in garrison, but 
as citizens. They were each allowed a small tract 
of land outside the village enclosure which they 

30 



cultivated as gardens. Some of these patches along 
the east line of Randolph street can be readily traced, 
though more than two hundred years have passed 
since their original survey. Hunting and trapping, 
considered as amusements or pastimes with us, were 
the means of gaining a living in the time of the 
original colonists, so that they can scarcely be claimed 
in this list. Probably every man and boy in the 
settlement had his old flint lock blunderbuss, capable 
of making a telling effect at short distance. The 
owner was skilled in its use and seldom missed his 
mark. One of the chief employments in the village 
was the gunsmith, or armorer. Every youth, as well 
as every man, was skilled in the making of traps for 
catching wild animals of all kinds whose fur was 
good. Care was taken not to catch or kill out of 
season, for the woods were depleted rapidly enough 
without killing when the fur was worthless. There 
were no buffalo (or bison) in the immediate neigh- 
borhood of Detroit, but when the whites first settled 
here there was an abundance of deer, elk, bear, fox 
and smaller animals. 

Everyone fished when fish were in season, which 
was most of the year. The fish were eaten fresh and 
none were salted down or exported. The rivers and 
lakes were so full of fish that none could be sold, 
either here or at Montreal or Quebec, and it was 
useless to undertake to export or to preserve them. 
The fishing was by line and spear only. The 
Indians made spearheads of flint, shaped something 
like the arrow head, but larger and much heavier. 
Even as late as the coming of the Americans in 
1796, it was reported that the French people had no 
seines, though there was abundance of use for them. 
After Cadillac left Detroit in 1711, an inventory was 
taken of the personal property owned by him, and 
in this list was an item for "1050 large fishing hooks, 
barbed," thus showing the general use of this instru- 
ment in the colony. 

The great number of flint arrowheads and spears 
found in and around the village indicate the methods 

31 



used by the savages in killing game and fish before 
the distribution of firearms and gun-powder among 
them. A large stock of gun flints and a supply of 
English muskets and French muskets was carried 
by the commandant in his storehouse. 

A great quantity of goods was sent up to Detroit 
annually for sale or distribution among the Indians, 
and in this supply are to be found some things 
evidently intended for their amusement. In one 
place we find "one hundred small trumpets," possibly 
to permit the youthful Indian to blow on and make 
himself heard, as do the white youths of today. 
These trumpets may also have been used in sleighing 
or coasting parties on the ice and snow, or perhaps 
as signals in the woods, though the Indian whoop is 
generally supposed to have been sufficient for the 
latter purpose. As there was a drum in the settle- 
ment, these trumpets may have been used in con- 
nection with it to raise a crowd. 

The invoice included thirty-six pounds of medium- 
size black glass beads, seventy-six and three-fourths 
pounds of large black beads, eight and three-fourths 
pounds of large green beads, streaked, thirty-three 
pounds of beads in strings of all colors. Evidently 
most of these articles were intended for sale to the 
Indians as ornaments, for a piece of gay-colored 
cloth, with a string of colored beads, would set off 
the dusky maiden to advantage, and make her the 
belle of the camp. The beads were the only form 
of glass present in these early times. There were 
no glass windows or mirrors for many years. An 
item of thirteen dozen small tin mirrors indicates an 
article used by both whites and Indians in making 
their toilets and in shaving, if the men of that day 
shaved at all. In the entire list there is nothing 
found to correspond with the modern razor, but in 
the list of property belonging to the Delisle family is 
included "one fine razor." Knives they had, shoe- 
makers' knives, Flemish knives, woodcutters' knives, 
Siamese knives, large carving knives and other 
knives in abundance, but mention is made of only one 

32 



razor. Some of the presents to the Indians show 
their propensity for display, such as "a fine shirt 
with ruffles" and a "red coat ornamented with 
imitation gold lace." Smoking was a pastime 
enjoyed by both French and Indians. Tobacco was 
either raised here or brought here by the Indians 
from the warmer territory to the south of Lake 
Erie. A kind of Indian tobacco was made from 
the bark of the willow tree. Quantities of tobacco 
were used and there were many pipes or calumets 
in the storehouse. Some of them were common, 
every-day affairs and some were elaborate and 
expensive. Some were simply called "calumets" 
while others were put down as "large calumets of 
red stone, with their stems and plumes and stands 
to hold them." The large ones might have been used 
at the great council fires where the Indian treaties 
were discussed and arrived at. 

Boats for use on the rivers and lakes could not 
be considered as instruments for amusement as at 
the present day, but as objects of necessity, for the 
only road in summer for all to travel was the water 
way, and the only vehicle, the canoe. These boats 
were made of the bark of trees, birch bark being 
preferable, or, for the larger boats, trunks of trees 
dug out or burned by slow fire. Great care had to 
be taken in all cases to see the work was perfect, 
for a boat which leaked was a great annoyance. 

In later years one of the great pastimes in the 
winter was racing on the ice, but not at this early 
time. The Indians had no horses in this part of the 
country. If there were any wild horses they were 
far to the south and west, and were at that time 
unknown in the vicinity of Detroit. 

Cadillac brought three horses to Detroit, but two 
of them died shortly after their arrival, and the only 
horse in the settlement in 1711 was the third animal 
and was called "Colon." All of the work necessary 
to be done by animals was performed by this horse 
and four oxen, also owned by Cadillac, and a few 
other oxen owned by some of the colonists. 

33 



In the immediate neighborhood of the village were 
several quite steep hills that might be utilized in the 
winter for coasting purposes, and perhaps Colon was 
employed to draw the coasters' sleds on the river 
ice, or up these hills or on the commons where the 
underbrush was cleared. There were no roads and 
very few smooth places fit for sleigh riding. This 
horse was occasionally used for horseback riding, as 
there were two pairs of old rowels mentioned, use- 
less for any other purpose than to urge on this 
solitary steed. There were several carts or wagons, 
but all hand-made and heavily built for carrying 
merchandise, not people. There were some other 
domestic animals, for notice is made that the hogs 
and cattle were placed on He Ste. Magdelaine, the 
original French name for Belle Isle, for safe keep- 
ing. The island, however, took the name of He au 
Cochons (Hog Island) during Cadillac's time. 

Perhaps the use of brandy, or eau-de-vie, as it was 
then called, could not be considered as an amuse- 
ment, but it was an indulgence granted to the 
Canadians and French with only such restraints as 
they voluntarily threw around it. Its use was 
forbidden to the Indians. That is, efforts were 
continually being made by the priests and the govern- 
ment to prohibit the use by the savages, and Cadillac 
was inclined to carry out this restraint, but he said 
at the time, that the use of a small quantity of brandy 
with every meal of fish was a necessity for the white 
man, and so the stuff was included in the soldiers' 
rations. Cadillac considered himself above the 
common run of his colonists, and did not associate 
with them as with equals. He made grants to 
members of his own family of large tracts of land 
on the Detroit River, thousands of acres in extent, 
supposing that they would ultimately become 
seigneurs, or landed proprietors, living off the rents 
paid by their tenants for these lands. For himself, 
he desired the income of the village proper and the 
adjacent lands, with the title of Baron or Marquis 
of Detroit. He was disappointed in not obtaining 

34 



this concession. He imposed a tax or annual rental, 
payable to himself, on every piece of land he granted 
to the settlers. There were a few of his companions 
with whom he was on familiar terms, as with the 
priests, Captain Tonty and the Lieutenants, 
Chacornac and Dugue. Their amusements were 
somewhat different from those indulged in by the 
"common herd" and we find in Cadillac's home 
"eighteen swords with handles," probably used for 
fencing. He was well educated and familiar with 
the dramatic writings of his country, but it cannot 
be determined that any theatre or work of that 
character was undertaken at Detroit, though there 
are several references in his letters to the drama. He 
proposed to found a school, or college, at Detroit, 
to instruct his colonists and the Indians there 
assembled. He proposed to establish a hospital to 
be placed under the charge of the Hospitallers, a 
religious order of nuns, and he further asked 
permission to form the Indians in military companies 
and regiments, officered partly by themselves and in 
part by French soldiers. All of these proposals, so 
far in advance of his time, were frowned upon by 
the French government, and his requests were 
denied. There was one system adopted by Him that 
outlasted his command and which continued in force 
some years. When he first came to Detroit, he 
supposed the entire trade of the place belonged to 
him, but the Company of the Colony of Canada soon 
laid claim to it, and a lawsuit followed, which con- 
tinued for some time, and finally resulted in his 
favor. After this final determination, he annually 
sold to all of his people who desired, the right to 
sell goods to the Indians. These goods all came at 
one time in the fall of the year, and upon their 
arrival nearly every house in the village was filled 
with the new goods placed on exhibition and sale, to 
induce the Indians to exchange their furs for trinkets 
and cloths. This was a sort of annual fair that 
lasted three or four days at a time. At such times 
there collected at the place all the Indians in the 

35 



neighborhood, and there were thousands of them, 
and a general good time was held as long as the fair 
lasted. The fair was abandoned in the time of the 
command of Tonty, who died in office in Detroit in 
1727, for he sold the right of trading to some 
Montreal merchants and they would not permit local 
dealers to share in the trade. A great noise was 
made about the discontinuance of the fair and it 
may have been revived in later years. 

In 1710, Cadillac was appointed governor of 
Lousiana, but did not leave Detroit for his new post 
until the following year. His immediate successor 
was Charles Regnault, Sieur Dubuisson, but he only 
retained the position a few months pending the 
arrival of De la Forest. 

During the first years of the settlement, the citizens 
were afraid of the Indians. Indeed, during the entire 
time of French, English and American occupation 
as late as 1832, when the Black Hawk War took 
place, the people living in the village were afraid 
of the uprising of the natives. The early French, 
however, became so accustomed to them, and to their 
ways of living, and so intimate with their home life, 
that they had considerable confidence in them. A 
very quiet and uneventful life they led for many 
years, though the troubles with the Indians in the 
early times, and the quarrels between the comman- 
dants and their Montreal creditors disturbed business 
to such an extent, that many of the people moved 
back to the eastern settlements, and the village 
decreased in size. 

The grants of farm lands that had been made by 
Cadillac in 1707 and 1708 were annulled by the 
government, and the titles all reverted to the King 
in 1716. This discouraged the farmers, for they 
could not make improvements and build houses upon 
insecure titles, but in later years, new grants were 
made to actual settlers. Then began the revival. 
The farmers raised sufficient to maintain the settle- 
ments, but nothing was shipped down to Montreal. 
The traders purchased goods from below, and sold 

36 



them for furs, the chief commodity of exchange for 
a long- time, but the orchards of apples yielded a 
larger supply of fruit than could be used at home, 
and cider began to be exported. 

In 1734, the Royal Notary, Navarre, came here to 
reside. He was next in importance to the comman- 
dant, and his coming gave new life to the society of 
the settlement. 

The second generation was now in control of 
affairs, and the number of young people in the village 
was greatly increased. With the years, the villagers 
had increased their worldly goods. They had horses 
and saddles, and a few French carts. A road was 
made along the river bank. Their houses were 
better constructed, and they lived better, and more 
independent. Most of the farmers lived on their 
farms part of the time, but retired to the village if 
the Indians threatened to trouble them. There was 
a garrison maintained at the post composed of people 
who were half soldiers and half artisans, for the 
soldier's pay was very small, and he eked out a 
subsistence by working at some trade, or as a 
gardener. 

Even in Cadillac's time there were musicians in 
the garrison, for we have an account of the trial and 
the execution of a drummer in Cadillac's company, 
before they came to Detroit. 

Some of the older citizens of today remember at 
the dances in their childhood, one of the instruments 
used was a Jewsharp. This instrument is no longer 
used for such purposes, but when it commenced to 
be employed is not recorded. In the absence of a 
better musical instrument, the flying feet might keep 
time to cleverly manipulated bone clappers. 

St. Saveur was the drummer of the garrison in 
1748, and in addition to his duties of furnishing 
music to the townspeople, he announced the public 
meetings, public auction sales, and other public 
events, by beating his drum in the principal streets 
of the village. This duty of giving public notices 
was also sometimes performed by a public bell ringer. 

37 



Notices of importance were given by this bell ringer 
proceeding through all the streets of the village call- 
ing out his news or notice. A written notice was 
also posted on the church door, though it is very 
probable that only a few citizens could either read 
or write. 

There is mention in the early church records of 
Jean Baptiste Roucoux, first chanter and teacher in 
the Christian school, and in the public library in De- 
troit is an old account book, kept about the year 1750, 
which contains a piece of music evidently written 
about that date by Roucoux, or by Etienne Dubois, 
for use in the church service. Dubois performed 
the dual services of chanter and sexton. 

It was in the Fall of 1760 that the English troops, 
under Major Robert Rogers, took possession of the 
fort and village. What a change this must have 
been, and how excited the people were. The little 
community that had existed so completely within 
itself for nearly sixty years that it had scarcely 
known what was going on in the great world with- 
out, was, in a day, without the firing of a gun, with 
but the parley of a few hours, converted from the 
quiet French community into a hustling English 
settlement. For sixty years Detroit's closest neigh- 
bors were Mackinac, Vincennes and Kaskaskia. She 
was at peace with the world, for she was unknown 
to the world. Now all was changed — and changed 
almost without warning. Armed troops marched 
into the settlement and took control of the village. 
Sentinels were posted at night to watch for foes, 
where no one had thought of watching before. Sen- 
tinels were marching all day and all night along the 
banquette of the palisade. The Indian trade was 
no longer carried on by the French people, for the 
new traders — the English, Irish and Scotch — had 
usurped the business and the former citizens were 
driven to their farms for a living. 

It was not long, however, before a better feeling 
came between the Canadians and the English. The 
young and unmarried girls and women of the post 

38 



soon became acquainted with the young soldiers in 
the garrison, and they were willing instructors and 
scholars in learning, each the language of the other. 
Every effort was made to conciliate the conquered 
Canadians, to make them feel at home with the 
master nation. 

The next year after the conquest (1761) Sir Wil- 
liam Johnson paid a visit to Detroit, and his coming 
was followed by a period of entertainments that 
lasted until he left the settlement. Each day was 
filled with the work of seeing the French people and 
getting acquainted with them, and in meeting the 
Indians and talking to them, purchasing their friend- 
ship, which lasted only as long as they could see the 
benefit of the purchase price. 

Johnson kept a journal of his trip and we find this 
entry under the date of Sunday, September 6th : "A 
very fine morning. This day I am to dine with 
Captain Campbell, who is also to give the 
ladies a ball that I may see them. They as- 
sembled at 8 o'clock at night to the number 
of about twenty. I opened the ball with 
Madamoiselle Curie — a fine girl. We danced un- 
til 5 o'clock the next morning." He had the name 
of the young lady wrong, but it was quite as near 
as he could be expected to get the peculiar French 
name "Cuillerier." This was Angelique Cuillerier, 
daughter of Antoine Cuillerier dit Beaubien. The 
baronet remained some time in the place, and was 
the subject of repeated entertainments. He writes 
that he took a ride before dinner towards Lake St. 
Clair. "The road runs along the river side which 
is thickly settled nine miles." "The French gentle- 
men and the two priests who dined with us got very 
merry. Invited them all to a ball tomorrow night, 
which I am to give to the ladies." Here again he 
met the same young lady — evidently by appointment. 
He writes : "In the evening the ladies and gentle- 
men all assembled at my quarters, danced the whole 
night until seven o'clock in the morning, when all 
parted very much pleased and happy. Promised to 

39 



write to Madamoiselle Curie as soon as possible, my 
sentiments ; there never was so brilliant an assembly 
here before." 

A strenuous life Sir William led in these few 
weeks in Detroit, but a more strenuous time he would 
have led upon his return to his old home if his Indian 
wife (or housekeeper, as he calls her in his will), 
Molly Brant, had known of his doings at Detroit. 
It was well for her peace of mind, and well for his 
personal safety, that she was kept in ignorance, for 
it is said that she had an ungovernable temper and 
was a terror when her will was crossed. She was 
a sister of Joseph Brant, the great Iroquois chief, and 
was the mother of ten children by Sir William John- 
son. 

Angelique, the little French girl who, with her 
pretty face, her jet-black hair, her bright eyes, her 
winning ways and her broken English, had won the 
heart of the baronet, was not left long to pine for 
his absence. 

James Sterling, a young Scotchman, who had 
come with the garrison and who was the storekeeper 
in the post, soon became the instructor of the French 
damoselle in the English language, while he received 
instructions in French from her. In 1763 when Pon- 
tiac was conspiring to surprise and murder the gar- 
rison, Angelique learned of his plans, and told her 
lover, who, in turn, informed Major Gladwin, and 
the surprise, so cleverly planned, was prevented and 
the garrison saved. 

Sterling and Angelique were married shortly after 
this, and although they remained many years in De- 
troit, they were the steadfast friends of the Colonies 
during the Revolutionary War. Both husband and 
wife suffered for our cause, and were driven from 
their Detroit home, never to return. 

The news of peace between France and England, 
of 1763, was brought to Detroit in a very peculiar 
way. The village was besieged by the Indian Pon- 
tiac and his Hurons. So closely were the English 
confined within the palisades of the village, that they 

40 



did not dare open the gates or go beyond the portals. 
George McDougall, who had ventured to go to Pon- 
tiac, upon his assurances of personal protection, was 
a prisoner among the Indians. A letter was brought 
from Niagara to Major Gladwin, who was in com- 
mand at Detroit, notifying him of the conclusion of 
peace between England and France. The bearer of 
this letter was killed by the Indians, and the note 
taken from him and given to Pontiac. The latter 
called upon McDougall to read it, and Pierre Chene 
Labutte interpreted it to the Indians. McDougall 
succeeded in keeping the paper, and on the night of 
June 2, 1763, he let another white prisoner take the 
letter, and run with it from the Indian encampment 
to the Fort. This messenger arrived entirely naked, 
bearing only the very welcome message of peace, at 
three o'clock in the morning. Upon being admitted 
to the Fort, his message was received and read, and 
the account states that upon the following evening 
there was an instrumental concert to celebrate the 
arrival of the welcome news. 

Just a month later, McDougall managed to escape 
from the Indians, and ran into the fort in much the 
same manner as the messenger who had escaped. 

Until the coming of the English in 1760, the af- 
fairs of the village were mostly managed by the com- 
mandant, but Englishmen had little idea of vesting 
authority in a single individual. They wanted to be 
governed by the laws, not by individuals. They 
wanted trials by jury, not the will of the comman- 
dant. For the first few years they had enough to 
occupy their attention in maintaining a semblance 
of friendship with the Canadians and Indians, but 
occasionally some other trouble arose that they had 
to attend to. 

The place was in the Indian country, and was not 
subject to the laws of England except as the people 
applied these laws. Criminals from other places fled 
to Detroit to escape punishment. Several crimes of 
magnitude were committed at Mackinac and Detroit, 
and some executions for murder and stealing took 

41 



place here. A man named Schindler was accused of 
selling base metal for silver, and was tried before the 
local justice and was acquitted by a jury chosen to 
try him, but the English governor, Hamilton, was 
so impressed with the man's guilt, that he ordered 
him drummed out of the settlement. There was, at 
that time, a quarrel between the governor and the 
lieutenant who was in command of the garrison, and 
the latter would not permit the drummer to beat his 
drum while passing through the citadel where the 
soldiers were. 

At the public execution or hanging of a man con- 
victed of murder, the band of musicians from the 
garrison surrounded the scaffold and played airs 
suitable to such a solemn occasion. 

During the Revolutionary War, there were parties 
of Indians and white men constantly going from 
Detroit to seek out the settlements on the borders of 
the colonies, destroying the houses and making pris- 
oners of and murdering the inhabitants. 

It is not recorded that any instruments of music 
were taken on these incursions, for their success de- 
pended upon their stealth, and a noise might betray 
their coming and prevent that unforeseen attack that 
they were desiring. The Indian war-whoop was 
practiced by both whites and reds, for signals as they 
required. The scalping of Indians by white men 
was quite as common as the scalping of the whites 
by the Indians. 

Major DePeyster, who was in command in Detroit 
during a portion of this war, writes May 26, 1780 : 
"Everything is quiet here except the constant noise 
of the war drum. All the seigneures are arrived at 
the instance of the Shawnese and Delawares. More 
Indians from all quarters than ever before known, 
and not a drop of rum." 

DePeyster was something of a poet and several 
short poems of his relate to his life at Mackinac, De- 
troit and Niagara. One poem is devoted to carioling 
or racing on the ice on the River Rouge. Everyone 
who had a horse was present. The festivities of 

42 



the occasion were under the management of Guil- 
laume LaMothe, a Frenchman who was an officer in 
the Indian department. A feast followed the race, 
which was enjoyed by the officers and their wives 
and guests. Much drinking was indulged in, and 
the party was hilarious. The poet, with unusual 
poet's license, had the wild bears and deer come from 
the woods and watch the pleasure seekers at their 
camp : 

"The goblet goes round, while sweet echo's repeating, 
The words which have passed through fair lady's lips ; 
Wild deer (with projected long ears) leave off eating, 
And bears sit attentive, erect on their hips." 

"The fort gun proclaims when 'tis time for returning, 
Our pacers all eager at home to be fed ; 
We leave all the fragments, and wood clove for burning, 
For those who may drive up sweet River Red." 

DePeyster, although the military commandant, 
was, in truth, the civil commandant as well, for the 
lieutenant-governor, Hamilton, the civil governor, 
was a prisoner of war at Williamsburg, Virginia, 
when DePeyster came to Detroit. Hamilton had 
been governor of Detroit for some three years, when, 
in the fall of 1778, he concluded to go to Vincennes 
to drive the rebels from the Ohio country. He utterly 
failed of his purpose, and was captured by General 
George Rogers Clark in the early part of 1779. The 
French inhabitants of Detroit were never cordially 
friendly to the British and when the news of the 
capture of Hamilton reached the place, the French 
were so elated that they held a three days' feast of 
rejoicing and building of bonfires to show their 
pleasure. This was the report made at the time, 
though it can probably be taken cum grano salis. 

We have not sufficient data to tell just when Wil- 
liam Forsyth came to Detroit, but we find him at an 
early date keeping a tavern or place of entertainment 
on Ste. Anne street in the old village. He owned 
a lot adjoining the citadel, on which he had erected 
a bowling alley and pleasure resort. 

43 



Probably the building also had a billiard table, for 
we know there were such tables in the country. The 
lot was wanted by the government to extend its bar- 
racks, and Forsyth was compelled to move out, and 
petitioned Governor Haldimand for damages for the 
loss of his property. As the bowling alley was a 
desirable adjunct to the pleasure resorts of the place, 
it was opened in another locality. 

When the War of the Revolution came to a close, 
it was agreed that Detroit should become a part of 
the United States, and should be vacated by British 
soldiers. But Great Britain thought that if she could 
hold on a few years, the States would quarrel among 
themselves, and she could repossess herself of the 
country because of their contentions. She was fooled 
in this, but nevertheless managed to retain possession 
of Detroit until 1706. In the meantime, the place 
was governed by the law-makers of Canada, as if it 
belonged to that dominion. In 1791, Canada was 
divided into Upper and Lower Canada, and in the 
fall of 1792, there was held in Detroit an election 
for members of the Provincial Parliament of Upper 
Canada. This parliament was divided into two 
houses, the upper, called the Council, the members of 
which were appointed, and the lower, the Assembly, 
the members of which were elected. 

In the upper house, there was one member from 
Detroit, Alexander Grant, known also as Commo- 
dore Grant, for he had charge of the entire navy on 
Lakes Erie, Huron and Michigan, during the Revo- 
lution. 

The members elected to the lower house were 
William Macomb, uncle to our General Alexander 
Macomb, and David William Smith, who lived at 
Niagara. Smith attempted, at first, to gain his elec- 
tion as representing the county of Essex, but at this 
election he was defeated by Francois Baby. This 
election took place August 20, 1792, and after his 
defeat his friends put him up for election in the 

44 



County of Kent, which included the village of De- 
troit. The election was held August 28, 1792, and 
here he was successful. 

The letters I have from him were written before 
either election took place, and were indited upon the 
supposition, or expectation, that he would win at the 
Essex election. As this was the first and only elec- 
tion to parliament ever had at Detroit, the descrip- 
tion Mr. Smith gives of what he expects will take 
place is quite interesting: "Perhaps I should have 
done better to have set up for one of the seats in 
Detroit, as I hear only of Mr. Macomb who is to 
be proposed ; but I did not then know they would be 
entitled to vote; besides were I thrown out on the 
20th, I might have a chance on the 28th. The French 
people can easily walk to the hustings, but my gentry 
will require some conveyance; if boats are necessary, 
you can hire them, and they must not want beef or 
rum, let them have plenty — and in case of success, 
I leave it to you which you think will be best for my 
friends, a public dinner and the ladies a dance, either 
now or when I go up. If you think the moment the 
best time, you will throw open Forsyth's tavern and 
call for the best he can supply. I trust you will feel 
very young on the occasion, in the dance, and I wish 
that Leith and you would push about the bottle to 
the promotion of the settlements on the Detroit. 
The more broken heads and bloody noses there are, 
the more election like, and in case of success (damn 
that if) let the white ribbon favors be plentifully 
distributed to the old, the young, the gay, the lame, 
the cripple and the blind. Half a score cord of 
wood piled hollow, with tar barrel in the middle, on 
the common, some powder and plenty of rum. I am 
sure you will preside over and do everything that is 
needful. As far as my circumstances will admit 
there must be no want, and I am sure you will have 
everything handsome and plentiful. Elliot, I am 
sure, will give you a large red flag to be hoisted on 
a pole near the bon-fire, and some blue colored tape 
may be sewed in large letters, 'ESSEX.' 

45 



"Thus talked the woman to herself when she car- 
ried her eggs on her head to the market. She sat 
them, she hatched them, she sold them for a crown 
apiece, and then down she fell, eggs and all." 

At another time he writes : "Have proper booths 
erected for my friends at the hustings ; employ For- 
syth to make a large plumb cake, with plenty of 
fruit, &c, and be sure let the wine be good and 
plenty. 

"Let the peasants have a fiddle, some beverage 
and beef." 

Jean Baptiste Beaubien, one of the founders of 
Chicago, and a noted fiddler at every dance in the 
early years of that village, was born in Detroit Sep- 
tember 5, 1787. He was a cousin of Angelique 
Cuillerier. 

The change of government finally came in 1796, 
when the English left and the Americans came in. 
It was not an unexpected change, and yet it made 
such an impression on the Canadian citizens who 
left the place rather than submit to the American 
rule, that they gave it the name of the "Exodus," 
a name by which it is familiarly known among their 
descendants even today. 

The new-comers were from New York and New 
England stock, and they brought with them some 
new ideas, amusements and holidays. Perhaps 
Christmas and the king's birthday were observed by 
the older residents, but now came the Fourth of 
July, and Thanksgiving Day, with its pumpkin pies, 
cider, and doughnuts. If the roasting of new corn 
and potatoes was unknown in Detroit before this 
era, it certainly was not afterwards. Stoves were 
not invented in time to be of general use in Detroit 
until as late, or even later, than the Exodus. The 
family baking was not done at home, but at the pub- 
lic bakehouse, but every girl and boy was so familiar 
with the fireplace and uncovered fire, that the roast- 
ing of corn and potatoes was no great novelty, 
though it was always a pleasure. 

46 



Then what of the husking bee, and the privilege 
of the fortunate finder of the red ear of corn, who 
was permitted to kiss the girl of his choice — if he 
could catch her. Did that come from New England, 
or was it indigenous to the soil that could yield a 
corn crop? 

The hunting of nuts in the fall by groups of chil- 
dren or of grown folks could not have originated at 
that time, though it was doubtless engaged in, as it 
had been for a century before. Of wild grapes and 
berries of all varieties there was an abundance, and 
it did not need much of an education to instruct the 
young folks in the idea of having a crowd to do 
berrying and enjoy the fun, and every day was a 
picnic. 

There were probably few, if any, two-story build- 
ings in the vicinity of Detroit before 1796, but after 
that date they began to increase in numbers, and on 
the occasion of the erection of each new building 
there was the raising bee of neighbors accompany- 
ing the work with a boiled dinner for the crowd, and 
perhaps something a little stronger than water in 
the way of beverage. 

There was a harpsichord in the settlement some 
years prior to the opening of the new century. Just 
when this musical instrument was brought to Detroit 
is uncertain, but it was there long before the year 
1799, for at that date it was represented to be in a 
dilapidated condition. It was the property of Dr. 
William Harpfy. Hiarpfy was a surgeon in the 
British garrison, and when the Exodus took place in 
1796, he was moved to the new establishment at 
Maiden, and he took his harpsichord with him. 
Among his most intimate friends at Detroit were 
John Askin and Commodore Alexander Grant. 
Grant had been commodore of the lakes during the 
Revolution and was, in 1792, appointed one of the 
members of the executive council for Upper Canada 
— a life position. John Askin was an extensive 
trader at Detroit, and brother-in-law of Grant. 
Grant lived at Grosse Pointe and there had a castle 

47 



well filled with young lady daughters. There were 
ten in all, of whom nine grew to womanhood, Ther- 
ese (Mrs. Wright), Nellie, Archange (married 
Thomas Dickson), Phillis (married Alexander 
Duff), Isabella (married Mr. Gilkison), Nancy 
(married George Jacob), Elizabeth (married James 
Woods), Mary Julia (married Mr. Milles), and Jean 
Cameron (married William Richardson). The ab- 
sence of any of the ten from the family circle could 
hardly be noticed, for the deficiency was filled by 
the cousins, daughters of John Askin. Of these 
cousins, frequent visitors at the Grant castle, there 
were Adelaide Askin (afterwards the wife of Elijah 
Brush) ; Therese, who married Colonel Thomas Mc- 
Kee; Ellen, the wife of Richard Pattinson, and 
Archange, who became Mrs. Meredith, and removed 
to England with her husband, who was an officer in 
the British forces. 

The first record we have of this harpsichord is 
contained in a letter from Dr. Harpfy to his friend 
John Askin. Harpfy was somewhat eccentric and 
quite voluble in his letter writing. This letter is 
dated October 17, 1799, and after dilating on various 
other matters, he turns his attention to the subject 
of music, and says "Curse the music. I wish it was 
sold. I care not for what, as all my wants and 
wishes to attain are not worth the pains or trouble 
to my friends. You will favor me if it could be in 
any way disposed of." 

It seems that the subject of the sale of this instru- 
ment had been talked over on some previous occa- 
sion between Askin and Harpfy, for the latter again 
writes : "In looking over your letter of the 14th, I 
thank you for your very great kindness in regard to 
the harpsichord — but I am told it is a mere wreck — 
therefore, as I have mentioned before, I wish it 
sold." 

What more proper place for such a piece of fur- 
niture than the castle of Commodore Grant, where 
it could receive the attention of so many young 
ladies. Harpfy and Askin concluded that the castle 

48 



was in need of just such an article, and one day, 
when one of the commodore's boats was at Maiden, 
they slipped the instrument aboard and it was soon 
landed at Grosse Pointe. Then came the fun. It was 
so old and dilapidated that it was useless and in the 
way. No one wanted it. Only the old friendship 
existing between Grant and Harpfy prevented the 
former from casting the musical instrument into 
"outer darkness." Grant complained to the doctor 
and asked him to take the piece away from his home. 
Harpfy had occasion to visit Sandwich and wanted 
to cross the river and see Askin in Detroit, but the 
ferry was not running very regularly, and the doctor 
was not feeling very well — he had been sick and was 
now slowly recovering. Instead of visiting Askin, 
he wrote him a long letter on various matters, and as 
a postscript, touched on the subject of the instru- 
ment : "October 28th, 9 o'clock at night. I really 
am sorry that the harpsichord was put in Mr. Grant's 
boat, for he talks about it — Gods, how he talks about 
it." The joke had been carried too far and Grant 
would not overlook it, or allow it to proceed further. 
The instrument must be removed, and that at once. 
So Askin sent for it, and had it taken to one of his 
storehouses in the village, where it was taken care 
of Askin lived on the front of his farm, not far 
from the intersection of Atwater and Randolph 
streets. Atwater street was the only highway to the 
country on the east side, and the well-to-do class of 
citizens lived in the neighborhood. Here Askin 
owned several buildings, and, besides, he had several 
houses and buildings in the village proper. The last 
we hear of the instrument that came so near being 
an instrument of discord, is a note in a letter from 
Dr. Harpfy to Mr. Askin, dated November 5, 1799, 
where he writes, "I thank you for your care of the 
harpsichord. I wish it could be sold." 

In 1799 there was an election held in Detroit for 
members of the Legislature, that met at Chillicothe, 
and Solomon Sibley, then a young attorney at De- 
troit, was one of the candidates. Voting then was not 

49 



by secret ballot, as now, but every one gave the 
name of his candidate as he came up to vote. The 
voter's name was taken down, and his qualifications 
for suffrage were also frequently indicated. 

At the election referred to, some opponent of 
Judge Sibley kept such a record of the persons who 
voted for him and from this list I have taken a few 
names of persons whose descendants are still here. 

Antoine Dequindre, who was, at that time, the 
owner of the farm extending along the westerly line 
of Dequindre street, is thus mentioned, "Has given 
his creditors all he has ; the farm on which he lives is 
the property of his wife." 

Christian Clemens, the founder and owner of 
Mount Clemens, "Has no property known." 

Ezra F. Freeman, then one of the principal law- 
yers in the place, "Has no property in the country." 

James Henry, an uncle of the late D. Farrand 
Henry. He was. at the time of his death, one of the 
wealthy citizens of the place, "Lives at Grosse Isle. 
Lately liberated from the Indians ; lives on the es- 
tates of the late Macomb." 

Elijah Brush, the founder of the Brush family, 
and the owner of the Brush farm, "Lately arrived ; 
has no property known." 

Sibley was elected over James May, and served in 
the legislature with Jacob Visger and Charles Fran- 
cois Chabert de Joncaire. 

This brings us to the beginning of the second cen- 
tury of the life of our city. Its population had in- 
creased from the one hundred who came at the start 
to some eighteen hundred who lived in the place, and 
along the shore line on both sides of the river. 

Now we are well on in the third century of our 
existence. 

We look back upon these happy days and sigh as 
we remember that the simple life — the simple pleas- 
ures — and the simple folks of this long ago, are no 
longer with us, and cannot be found in the tumult of 
our great city. I thank you. 

50 



Toastmaster: It is with peculiar pleasure that 
we welcome into our circle tonight Rev. Dr. Marquis. 
(Applause.) Formerly a minister who belonged to 
a denomination ; now he belongs to the community. 
(Applause.) I love to recall a book-store conversa- 
tion with the late Bishop Harris, in which he re- 
marked — suggested by the volume that he had been 
glancing at, "The essential matters are not those that 
are peculiar to one denomination, but those that are 
common to all denominations." It is this liberal 
spirit, now so prominent among the leading clergy- 
men of the country everywhere, that is doing so 
much for the good of the American people. You 
know that all the great religious ideas of the world 
had their origin in Asia. They flourished and be- 
came differentiated, and finally became hostile, even 
to death, in Europe; and it is the mission of the 
United States to harmonize these formerly hostile 
religious ideas upon a higher plane of beneficial ser- 
vice and practical utility to mankind ; not the monot- 
ony of unity, but harmony in variety ; hastening the 
day when swords shall be beaten into plowshares, 
and spears into pruning-hooks, when societies of 
wars and revolution shall be messengers of peace, 
and of law and of order. A marquis, in the old feu- 
dal time, was the officer who was responsible for the 
frontiers, and our own Marquis has prominently 
carried the flag of intellectual and religious freedom 
far in advance upon the frontiers of modern thought. 
We are fortunate, tonight, in closing our program, 
in having a talk from Dr. Marquis, upon Patriotism. 
(Applause.) 

Dr. Marquis : Mr. Toastmaster and Gentlemen, 
I promise you, that the very best thing about my ad- 
dress tonight will be, — if I can make it so, and get 
out of my preachifying habit, — its brevity. 



51 



PATRIOTISM 



Address by 

Rev. Samuel S. Marquis, D. D. 



The subject of patriotism is one that I am well 
aware is familiar to you gentlemen of this organiza- 
tion, and the idea that is embodied in that word is, 
I know, very familiar to us all. Yet, I think that the 
most familiar words are those that, after all, convey 
in them a lost meaning. I have wondered, as I have 
been thinking over this topic, whether the real idea 
of patriotism is one, after all, that is very clear in 
our minds. We ordinarily think of patriotism, I 
think, as that which is manifested in men under test, 
or in times of danger. We think of the patriot, too 
often, as a man who takes a musket upon his shoul- 
der and goes to the front when his country is threat- 
ened. But I am not quite sure but what a higher 
patriotism is that which is manifested by a citizen in 
time of peace. Our patriotism, I think, is a good 
deal like our religion, if it were possible that the 
Turks should land in this country and attempt to 
force their religion upon us, by force of arms, I 
doubt not there would be thousands and hundreds of 
thousands of those who are nominally Christian, who 
would be willing to lay down their lives to prevent a 
thing of that kind. In other words, they would die 
for Christ, but you could not get many of them to 
live for Him. And there are a great many of us, 
I think, that perhaps would die for our patriotism, 
but it would be very difficult for us to really rise to 
a higher station and live for it. Because I take it, 
that it takes a higher order of man to be a patriot in 
peace than to be a patriot in war. 

53 



Now, I am only going to simply outline what I 
had in mind to say to you tonight, and leave you to 
think it over. I want to draw a distinction in my 
own mind between what seems to me to be the true 
and false patriot. To illuminate that which is false, 
let me simply briefly cite some three or four kinds 
of false patriot. 

There is the patriot of the hot-air kind, if you will 
pardon the slang phrase. He is the man who takes 
it all out in boasting about his country, and especially 
about the bigness of it. If you mention a soap fac- 
tory that you have seen in England, he knows of a 
bigger one in America. If you talk about the cham- 
pagne of France, it is not anything to compare with 
the champagne that is made in California. There is 
always something of a bigger or better character in 
his own country. He is entirely satisfied, apparently, 
with the bigness and superiority of his country and 
that boastfulness of his takes, in his mind, the place 
of loyalty, or patriotism. There are those who are 
satisfied with anything and any place, but it is not 
an indication that a man is a patriot because he is 
satisfied with the country in which he lives. 

It reminds me of what, possibly, to you is an old 
story, of the two Irishmen who happened to pass 
out of this life together, or very nearly together. 
One went up the grand stairway, and the other down. 
After a number of centuries had passed by, they 
chanced to meet one day upon the landing. Pat says 
to Mike, "How do you loike it up there?" Mike 
says, "It is foine, they gave me a job that I was on 
to before I went; I have been paving the streets, and 
it is a nice clean job, just layin' gold bricks. There 
is not many of us up there, and we have to work tin 
hours a day." Then he says to Pat, "How do you 
loike it down where you are?" "Well," replied Pat, 
"I loike it very well, they gave me a job I am on to; 
1 have been tinding furnace ever since I went down 
there." "But," says Mike, "it is a nasty, dirty job; 
don't you wish you had the one I have?" "Oh, I 
don't know," says Pat, "there are so many of us 

54 



down there that we only have to work seventeen 
minutes once in thirty-six years." (Laughter.) 

There is a certain kind of satisfaction that a man 
can drum up about his country, and possibly let it 
pass for patriotism. 

Then there is the patriotism that manifests itself 
in a form of loyaltv for one's political party. You 
will meet the man who is sure that the man who doe? 
not vote as he is voting", is somehow or other a 
traitor, that is all there is to it, there is no way 
around it. if he does not believe in a tariff, or free 
trade ; and if he does not believe in the gold standard, 
or in lfi to 1, or whatever the case may be, he is 
dead sure that he is on the side of the patriots, and 
that voting as he does is the thing. That is the 
evidence of that fact. And so, you may go along 
the line. There are these false standards of patriot- 
ism, these false ways of expressing it. and many of 
us. I fear, have not gotten quite beyond these stand- 
ards. 

Now. briefly, my idea of a patriot is a man who 
stands for these three things : First of all, for the 
ideals that lie behind and were in the minds of the 
men who were the founders of this country. In the 
second place, the man who loves the people of his 
country, not simply its mountains and its streams, or 
some particular state, or some particular city or vil- 
lage, or the farm on which he was born, but a man 
who really loves the people of his country, and who 
is willing to rise above selfishness, and to do every- 
thing in his power for the good of his country, and 
for the good of the whole of the people of that coun- 
try. And in the third place, the man who feels that 
the nation is as sacred as the church,. or the family, 
and that his duties as a citizen are just as divine and 
sacred as any of the duties that can possibly fall to 
man. 

Now, briefly, let me just dwell upon these three 
things for two or three minutes. First of all, as to 
the ideals. You men know more about these things, 
because you are students of these things, and you 

55 



com<e of a line of ancestors that naturally lead you 
into that study. You arc more familiar with them 
than T am myself; but as I read the history of this 
country, there were three currents or three streams 
of blood that really unite in the heart of this nation ; 
three ideals or ideas that, somehow or other, mingle 
in the mind of the nation. There was the ideal in 
the blood of the Puritan ; there was the ideal in the 
blood of the Quaker, there was the ideal in the 
blood of the Cavalier. You know what the ideals 
are, and what the ideas were that come down to us 
from the Puritan, with his religious intensity, with 
his ethical standard, with his sense of native inde- 
pendence, and with his business push and tact. Yet, 
I sometimes think, if the old Puritan were to come 
back and look over his descendents, that he would 
find today that possibly the characteristic, or chief 
thing that he has stamped upon, and that has been 
left upon his descendents is, after all, his business 
sense. That the moral or ethical standard which 
he carried into it, his religious sense, that those 
things are waning, and that peculiar business in- 
stinct which he had, and which put New England at 
the front, and which has made his descendents men 
of progress in the commercial world everywhere, 
that this was not the thing, above everything else, 
that has survived. 

Now, I think that the patriot, or the man who is 
a descendent of the Puritan, owes it to his fore- 
fathers to keep alive, not simply the business instinct, 
but that we, as patriots, if we are true, must stand 
more and more for the ideals of the fathers, so far 
as the moral ideals, or ethical standard which he 
dare carry into his every-day life. We need that 
in the nation's life today. 

Going to the Quaker, we find him standing 
among other things, especially for this, for tolera- 
tion. I mean, not simply tolerance of another's 
religious views, but tolerance in the widest sense of 
the word. I sometimes think that we sometimes do 
not quite understand what tolerance means. We 

56 



have gotten a kind of free and easy way in these 
days. We think we are tolerant, but I think we are 
indifferent, and there is quite a difference between 
the two, just as there is a difference between liberty 
and license. A man is not tolerant who has not any 
ideas of his own. It was not because the Quaker 
did not believe, but it was because he did believe, 
that he could afford to be tolerant. The greatest 
sceptic on God's earth is the man who is afraid to 
let another man fully comprehend that which he 
believes. It is simply because he has not faith or 
confidence in his own conviction that he is afraid 
of another man's conviction or difference from him. 
It is because a man does believe, that he can afford 
to be tolerant. If I believe, for example, that I may 
stand forth just as true in anything, I can afford to 
let another man have his opinions. Let time test 
the truth. I do not have to uphold it, I do not have 
to stand behind it in that sense. The test of time 
will tell, and I can leave it to that. And I think, 
that along with the Quaker ideal that we should be 
careful that we have gotten it, not simply a mere 
tolerance or mere indifference, but that we should 
have convictions, as men, for which we stand. 

And last of all, the ideal that came from the 
Cavalier. You know the charm and courtliness of 
his life and all that, but here is one of the strong 
contradictions in American history, it seems to me. 
You know it was the Virginia planter who proposed, 
first of all, a Union as opposed to a loose confed- 
eracy, if I remember rightly. It was the great 
Cavalier Washington who gave us the idea of a 
Union. Yet, in later years if I remember rightly, 
it was some of the New England colonies that stood 
out a long time against that idea. But the strange 
thing and contradiction in the history is, that later on 
when the nation met, north and south, upon the field 
of battle, the Cavalier's descendents were contend- 
ing for the confederacy, and those of the north for 
the Union. In both armies there may have been 
certain interests of a selfish character that came into 

57 



it, whatever they were, I cannot tell, but we have 
inherited from him from the south, in his idea and 
conception of the Union, the Nation for which it 
seems to me every patriot must stand. 

I want, just briefly, to speak of one other thing, 
and that is, that a man who is a patriot, loves the 
people of his country. We have a song called 
"My Own United States", in which we speak about 
loving every blade of grass, and every flowing 
stream and rill, and all that kind of thing, and I 
tell you there is a great deal of patriotism that does 
not go any further than just that. It is just a kind 
of sentiment about the country, a sort of home 
feeling that we have here, and it is something that 
anybody can have. The question, it seems to me, 
of love of one's country is not simply a question of 
whether you love Michigan as a State. It is whether 
you love the people. It is whether a man is really 
big enough, and unselfish enough to be standing for 
the highest interests of all the people, and not simply 
for himself or for his own individual interests. 
When you come to the manifestation of that love, 
here is one of the reasons, one of the things that 
makes me think that patriotism is not strong, or as 
strong as it ought to be in this country. When you 
come to the manifestation of patriotism which, in 
its last analysis, is love of the whole people of your 
country, how can you manifest it? You can man- 
ifest it in but only one way, that is in service; but it 
seems to me that one of the evidences that we are 
lacking in the highest form of patriotism in these 
things is the evidence that men, oftentimes like 
yourselves, who are descendents of the men who 
helped found this nation, are today not giving your- 
selves to the service of the community as you should 
give yourselves. It is almost impossible to get men 
of higher interests and higher ability to give up a 
little bit of their time. I do not mean to go down 
and serve at Washington, or even to go and serve 
at Lansing, but to serve right here in the City of 
Detroit for the higher interests of the people. Pat- 

58 



riotism like love, begins at home, and a man cannot 
claim to be a patriot who is a patriot only when the 
nation is in danger, and refuses to be a patriot when 
his city needs his individual support and help. So 
I simply leave — putting out all other thoughts — that 
one idea, as a test of your patriotism, and of mine, 
as to whether or not we are patriots in fact, whether 
we love enough our own people, to give them here, 
in our own community, our best, our highest service. 
I thank you. (Applause.) 

Toastmaster: Without further formality, we 
will bring our delightful and profitable evening to 
a close. 



59 



28 f 




<*' 



V »*%!'* ck 















<j 







V v^> V*^V v^*V 












A v 










«** 



«** ^ °*y< 











Xp c^ *>Vi° ^ & ' 



* „ ' ,0 







^ --^^i: %^ ^ 



£ 7 ^D 



^ 1 1 . 















% 






«0 •> * * °' 



«<*• o " • * *. 




^ 



yy 



>>• 




> 



' * . *•-> *<* , " 








<£> o « o 



<\ 



^ 



I 





